Knots in the Timeline
by LoverBoyWonder
Summary: The 11th Doctor, 10th Doctor, and a very out-of-time Master. Could the 11th incarnation of the ancient Time Lord possibly be any more conflicted? Of course, the Master takes advantage. Rated T for angst & implied sex! Slash, don't like don't read! R&R!


**A/N: Yay, another Doctor/Master fic! Pairings include: 11th Doctor/Simm!Master, 10th Doctor/Simm!Master, and 10th Doctor/11th Doctor, because I'm crazy :D It was fun to wite, and it was something really different for me...so I hope you like it! Read and review! Cross-posted on dA.**

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><p><span>Knots in the Timeline<span>

"Just one more minute," the Master pleaded from their hiding spot. "C'mon. Just _one minute_." "No," the Doctor said firmly, "Certainly not." The Master's shoulders tightened as he turned away from the scene before him: there were two men, a blonde- his past self- and a tall, lean brunette-guess who- curled around each other in a bed. "In you get," said the Doctor quietly, ushering the Master through the TARDIS doors and closing them swiftly. "I never should have brought you back, you know," the Doctor sighed as they stood in the bigger-on-the-inside room, dwarfed by the large console. He was in his eleventh body now- much too old to be carting around his enemies and taking them back in time in order to satisfy their strange fetishes, no matter how gorgeous they were, or how suddenly and unexpectedly they appeared on his ship. The Doctor's hair was longer now, and he was thinner, and he wore more bowties- but the Master looked the same as he had when they fought Rassilon together, once upon a time. He was blonde and scruffy, but by no means any less appealing, and there was something endearing about the way he scowled, even if his wit and his teeth were razor-sharp, and his tone usually rather acerbic.

"So, remind me why I took you, again," the Doctor said mildly, smoothing the front of his slacks and settling a little less-than-gracefully into his favorite chair by the controls, crossing one leg over the other comfortably. The Master grinned and sat down cross-legged with a _thunk_ on the metal grating that served as a floor before he answered, "Must be 'cause you love me so much," he said with a shrug and a flash of that grin again, the one that showed his canines. "Your new body is very…pretty," he added suddenly with a narrowing of the eyes and a hint-of-something in his voice, a hint of something which the Doctor hadn't heard since he was in his tenth body. The Doctor started, smacking his hand on the bottom of the console. "Ouch!" he yelped, and the Master's grin grew into a feral smile, the kind of smile a wolf gives to whatever prey it happens to be toying with.

"But this new body's not as _sexy_ as your tenth was, you know," the Master continued loftily, raising an eyebrow at the Doctor, whose ears had turned red at the tips and who seemed to be sitting ever-so-slightly straighter in his chair. The Master licked his lips slowly, noticing the subtle darkening of the Doctor's eyes and the way his elegant eyebrows knit together gently, furrowing the smooth, pale brow. "It's still me, though," the Doctor said, keeping his voice light although his throat felt drier than the sands of all the desert planets combined, "I'm still the Doctor."

The Master barked out a harsh and bitter laugh. "Now, Doctor," he said condescendingly, "Don't _lie._ I know how it is, remember? A new man emerges with your knowledge, your thoughts, and your memories, and you? You're dead_._" Somehow the bitterness in his words was offset by the taunting tone he lent to them, the lilting quality of his voice which brought the Doctor _this much closer_ to snapping, to lashing out. "No, face it, _Doctor,_" he was saying. "You're not _him_. I may have fallen through a rift but I haven't forgotten him, the way he loved. The way his kisses turned me on," the Master said, his eyes fluttering closed, "how he would touch me, _right there_-" "Shut up," the Doctor said a little too loudly, his hands clenched a little too tightly, the nails digging into the soft flesh of the palms as if to draw blood, and the Master cracked an eye open gleefully.

"He had small hands, Doctor," the Master continued torturously, "with long fingers. But it was his mouth you wanted on you. His mouth was- to _die_ for…" The Doctor snarled, beyond words, with his hands fisting in his slacks and his pupils smoldering and black. There was silence for a moment, and then the Master giggled, delighted with this new game, and clapped his hands together. "I just can't take you seriously in this body, I'm sorry Doctor," he said, quite obviously not sorry at all.

"I'm still him," the Doctor said, his voice hollow. "I don't look like- like him, not anymore. But I _am_, Master. Come on- you know me. I_ am _him," the Doctor finished, a hint of desperation fluttering out of his words and landing heavily on the floor during the awkward pause that followed. "No, you aren't," the Master said with pity, seemingly amused, and continued to taunt him, seeing how far he could push this newer Doctor. "You will _never_ be him," the Master said with a dark laugh, "no matter how hard you try. The Oncoming Storm? Please. You look too weak to snap a twig, let alone destroy civilizations and topple governments."

The Doctor stood up then, back perfectly erect, his eyes and cheeks burning but his tone frigid. "Want to bet?" he said menacingly, advancing on the Master. "Ha," the Master rose as well, smirking, knowing what came next. "You couldn't live up to him if you- mmmph." His eyes slid shut as the Doctor kissed him hard, up against the TARDIS wall, bodies flush. The Master growled into the kiss and _pushed_ against the other Time Lord, making the Doctor gasp, his pupils blown wide.

"Bedroom," the Master grunted. "Oh, _God_," the Doctor moaned and staggered down the hallway, the Master practically attached to his neck. The Doctor shouldered his door open and pulled the Master inside, where the Master, in retribution, pushed him down on the bed in order to thoroughly ravish him. "Master," the Doctor groaned, bowtie dangling haphazardly from his neck. It was a bit strange, with his new body, but they managed like they always did, the Master somehow knowing how to pull the Doctor's hair, kiss his fingers just the right way, make him _scream_. They were red-hot, the two of them, burning brighter and brighter and brighter, burning until everything was _white_ and they were so hot that their bodies froze.

They lay together, afterward, even though they were a veritable mess. "Oh, dear," the Doctor mumbled ruefully. "We probably should _not_ have done what we just did…" The Master hugged the Doctor gleefully. "You got the jealous body," he said smugly, then: "But your tenth body is _definitely_ better." The Doctor sat up and looked at the Master, astonished, and then he got up, grabbed his clothes violently and stalked away, muttering under his breath. The Master looked like a spoiled child as he reclined on the Doctor's bed. "You'd better bring me back," he called, "_He'll_ be expecting me any minute." "We _are_ in a time machine," the Doctor yelled back grumpily. The Master just laughed at his retreating back.

It was ten minutes later when the Doctor poked his head back into the room to find the Master lying on top of the sheets, carefully inspecting his fingernails. The Doctor scowled, and the Master looked up and waved happily. "We've arrived," the Doctor said coldly. "Get dressed. You're leaving." The Master shrugged and slid off the bed, beginning to pull his clothes on. He raised an eyebrow at the Doctor pointedly, who turned bright red and left the room to go about landing the TARDIS properly.

Finally, the Master finished dressing and walked down the hallway- _that_ hadn't been there last night, had it?- until he found himself in the console room, looking at the Doctor's back. He sidled over to the Doctor, trailing a hand over the other Time Lord's shoulders, and the Doctor jumped up quickly- _too_ quickly- and headed for the door. "Right," the Doctor said, _sans_ emotion, "Let's get you out of here and back to your time, come on." The Master exited the ship with the Doctor close on his heels and an inscrutable look on his face. Once they were outside, however, the Doctor took the lead, walking in front and not looking back at the Master. They were on what seemed to be an old street in Paris, paved with bumpy cobblestones and worn out by the multitudes of travelers using it.

Up ahead, they saw a forlorn-looking figure, walking alone with his head bowed, staring at the gutter. The Master flashed the long-haired Doctor a look of smug joy before running up to the lonely man before them and twining their hands together. "Master!" the Doctor heard the man exclaim, and as he drew closer he saw them locked together in a heated kiss; his tenth incarnation, with his hands tangled in the Master's short hair and all manner of noises escaping from his throat.

The Doctor cleared his throat loudly, glaring at the happy pair. The Master smiled at him happily and flipped him off, but his tenth regeneration pulled away, red in the face and looking quite apologetic. "Right, sorry," he said with a grin. "I didn't catch your name…" "I didn't give it," the long-haired Doctor muttered under his breath. "What?" His past self threw out a questioning glance from beneath arched brows. "John Smith," he said grumpily, straightening his bowtie. He studied his tenth body closely for a long moment, and the other man's grin faltered a bit as his breath hitched. "Um- er- do I know y-" The Doctor pulled back and punched his old self in the face, sending the Time Lord sprawling.

"Oi!" the old Doctor exclaimed indignantly. He probably would have kept complaining, except the other, newer Doctor had crouched down next to him on the street, and he found he had barely enough breath to keep his hearts pumping. The Doctor gently cradled his tenth regeneration's head in his hands and kissed him, softly and sweetly, taking total control of the Time Lord's mouth. The old Doctor was speechless for once as his hands tangled into the long hair of his newer counterpart, and after the kiss they stayed there a moment, breathing softly and resting with their foreheads touching, the Master forgotten in the background.

The Doctor saw his tenth incarnation reach out a hand to him, heard an echoing cry of "Wait!" from his beautiful lips- lips he had kissed, lips he wanted to kiss again, lips he wanted to bloody with his teeth- but he had already turned away and was running back to his TARDIS, leaving confusion in his wake. The Master grabbed the hand of the old Doctor and pulled him away in the opposite direction, off into the heart of Paris.

The long-haired Doctor entered the TARDIS- his beautiful TARDIS- and set the coordinates for the innermost depths of the galaxy, caressing the controls and stroking the walls and columns of his ship as she flew. He finally rested and allowed her to drift, as he collapsed on the floor and allowed a tear to fall from his eye and into her heart, as he allowed her to feel his pain and lament everything, over and over again, because they had all of eternity for each other.

Back on the streets of Paris, though, the Master kissed the Doctor- a Doctor, one of many Doctors- fiercely, as if he would never let him go. As they made their way to a hotel, the Master fingered the small key that now lay in his pocket; a key that he knew was made to fit only one lock. It was older than time, this key, and it changed its skin like a chameleon, just like its true owner. As the Master's fingers grazed the edges of the metal, it grew heated and began glowing ever-so-slightly.

The future could be changed.


End file.
